Of dreams and stories

          I have left my Shire. It can't be better phrased. Losing ALL things familiar and keeping a budget are idle and unexciting tales I know, and not exactly the kind of adventures told in books. How will 'Budgeting Tips 101' ever beat 'The Lion, the Witch, and Tita Ingkai' in my nieces' books? But even in my secluded world of wizards and marshwiggles, I know that someday, the kids who think Tita Ingkai is the coolest for beating giants will cease being kids and realize that Tita Ingkai can't keep a job.

          That's why I'm holding on now... and moving on, at the same time.

          I miss home, and friends, and beach escapades, and picnics, and books, and dinners, and just being with people I care about. In short, I miss Life. I really don't remember living the last three months - I have been GOOGLING more like it. I'm on my own so I google on what to do. I googled for jobs. I googled for maps and how to get from here to there. I google when something confuses me. I google when I feel sick and when I got acne breakouts, I googled yet again. Really, I'd be marrying Google any day now.

          But you know what's funny? I've never really been lost by trusting that voice in my head though it sounds sick. EVER. So instead of wasting my energy on regrets, I pause and reflect on why of the hundreds in the city, I always get to ride the right bus, or get that weird feeling that I need to get out on the next stop which then turns out to be the right street. For months now, I've been feeling like a slave of Somebody in my mind and as long as I follow, nothing goes wrong.

          By 'nothing wrong', I don't mean mistake-free. I think my whole life is made out of mistakes, so I don't really fear making one. Sometimes, it's a breath of fresh air when you screw things up and remind people that you are no rainmaker.

          I'm 27 and I still hate complications and mediocrity. I still don't talk to people I don't like (a sizeable portion of the human population) and I know that If I were a bit less of an OC with penchant on all things normal, I'd be happier. But being a Gen for a decade now made me see people of Job-like miseries, I being only poked in the head by Fate and them being completely shoved to the ground. I'm a witch or mentally equivalent of one if I complain of my blessings. So yes, I am happy.

          Adulthood, like impossible mutiplications (more than 3 digits in my case) is still tough to comprehend. At times, I throw a fit at people magnifying your potentials and putting too much on your shoulders. Weird but when you've given one best, even a dozen good would never measure up. And when you've done something good, you'd be expected to do more good... it doesn't really stop until you realize it is ok to be weak sometimes.

          Like in the great stories, your character dictates plot sequences and not the otherwise. When you lose sight of who you are, you lose your part in the plot. Stories come and go but to remain in character is a choice. It is always a choice.

          When I wake up feeling wasted instead of rested, I would hear Puddleglum saying 'Bingkai, life is not all fricaseed frog and eel pie'. Then I laugh at my own folly, drink coffee, and feel wonderful. Do I deserve jail time for choosing the Neverland life? In a few years I'd be married, or have children to make stories with, or be a nun and destroy religion... who knows really? The happy-ever-after part is still a leap of faith and for now, once-upon-a-time is enough for me. Dreams and directions always go right to characters who think right.

           In great stories, they always do.

A Song to the Lore

The ship has sailed, Havens it sought, but I

Am here left. Prison is the Earth of soul

Unquenched, conquered in cage no bounds; don't pry!

Weary's the heart, wary, despair doth call.

'Take roots and grow elsewhere', they say of old.

'Tread the road forgotten though barren waste.

Corage doth need best, Shadows may unfold'

On to forever, roads to nothingness.

Will Elendil shine if morrow comes cursed,

When age fails, wit wavers, thus defeated

Of time; what's spent is lost in tears unshed

A bearer unsung in tale unended.

Believeth in Elfstone and Evenstar

I do, though far in the abyss of hope

I dream, like Eowyn divided in two,

To long or to heal in same hands that hurt.

Cast me to Nimrodel o'er seas and stars

(Why flow eternal though free thy fairest?)

Anguish of Amroth's love unrequited

Hell hath no compare, Heaven doth not pray.

What more sorrow than constancy unchanged?

What life survives the test of sameness proved?

Why live or die, why win or lose, why ask,

Why not answer, why the burden of truth?

Lay me the Ancient down Third Age passed.

To Lorien and Imradil the roads cut

Mirror or light, I seek not but escape

For weary's the heart, wary, yes indeed.

I am

I am a thinker. I live what I think. Ideas, no matter how great when not lived are wasted in vain. People who do not live their ideas are nothing short of cowards; therefore, they lead convenient lives.

I detest comfort. There is no challenge in mediocrity. Life is too short to live in the middle. A life that is closer to the edge is a life of highs and lows. No permanence. No compromise. Risky.  Uncertain. Treacherous. But if you find stability in that short swing, you master the art of living.

If you master life, you master death. You master heaven, hell, and anything in between.

I am an agnostic. I find it a duty to question truth. My everyday is a quest for truth. Dogmas don’t enslave me. Nothing enslaves me but truth. I detest conformity to belief, superstition and lies.

LIES – are my nemesis. Sometimes I win. Many times I lose. But I continue to fight.

I don’t surrender. I quit, I resign, but never surrender. When you surrender, you refuse TRUTH and let LIES win. I never let lies win, not if I can help it. So I let the truth rest with the belief of what’s left in Pandora’s Box. Lies can’t withhold truth forever. From Chaos there is Order and by then, truth perforated by travesty and personal gain will cast vengeance over those who were too weak to defend what must-have-been.

I don’t believe in the Church. I believe in its people. I believe on the necessity of faith to survive life. I believe on the power of the human spirit. I am a daughter of Emerson, of Kant, of Socrates, of Herodotus and all those who preach on the god within.

I am my own god. I don’t need position, awards, raise, promotion and honorifics to feel great. I am my own god. I believe on my ability to do good or evil, build or destroy, influence or discourage, win or lose… I fear myself. I honor ideas. I cry for Jesus. I laugh at the world.

For always, I find it funny how people ask for my heart when truth is, I wear it on my sleeves.

I work. I work bloody hard. I am not ruled by ambition. I live the present moment so I do the best that I can do today. Tomorrow remains a gift to be seen. Only the sunrise can tell and only the sunset can caution on the darkness to come. Whatever I work today is a tiny part of a bigger vision. When I lose sight of that vision, I lose the reason to work hard. A work without reason is a self-inflected slavery. There is no emancipation to those who fool their own god.

I am a bohemian. I believe in free will. I live freedom. I love fashion. I see no divide between beauty and brains. I thrive on balance. I seek Utopia. I have found myself.

I explore. I create. I never let my small voice, my small town, or my small country limit my potentials. I discover. I learn on my own. I have crossed oceans through the power of my pen. I work when others wait. I compete when others play. I play when others sleep. Sleep is the state of eternity and I am saving mine for the inevitable end.

I don’t expect understanding. I respect any judgment against me. I was born different. And I will die with a difference done.